


Colors

by Aranur



Category: British Actor RPF, British Singers RPF, COUNTERFEIT (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-15 23:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aranur/pseuds/Aranur
Summary: Sam sees his brother for the first time in a while, only to realize he's going through a manic phase, something he doesn't really have words for yet because Jamie is as-yet undiagnosed with bipolar disorder. Sam does his best to take care of his brother, keep him grounded and safe. He didn't count on Jamie kissing him. He didn't count on Jamie tapping into the fantasies he's had about his big brother for as long as he's been having fantasies.Jamie is 22, Sam is 16.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Work is inspired by the song 'Colors' by Halsey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’re dripping like a saturated sunrise  
> You’re spilling like an overflowing sink  
> You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece  
> And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink
> 
> -"Colors", Halsey

Sam hasn’t been terribly close to his brother since he moved out last year. Which makes sense, what 22 year old wants to hang out with their 16 year old kid brother? Especially when the elder is a famous actor and model, whose career is getting bigger every day. Sam gets it, but he hates it. He misses Jamie like nothing else.

Which is why Sam jumps at the invitation when Jamie finally reaches out one afternoon. Jamie’s having a party, it says. Close friends only, super chill. _You should come. I miss you. I love you and I’m sorry I’ve been so busy._

Except that it isn’t super chill, it isn’t just close friends. There have to be at least 30 people here, the screen door leading to the balcony is letting in air that reeks of weed and tobacco, and there are several half-empty bottles of liquor on the kitchen counter by the time Sam arrives. Even in the crowd, it’s not hard to spot Jamie. Always the center of attention, always entertaining, mesmerizing, blinding in the way that he makes everyone else just sort of disappear from your perception, like he’s the only one in the world.

That’s not just Sam who thinks that, is it? No, of course not. That would be weird.

Sam makes his way over but doesn’t draw attention to himself, just listens in on one of Jamie’s outrageous stories. He hasn’t heard this one yet, it sounds fairly recent, and it surprises him how much that gets under his skin. Sam isn’t just his brother, he realizes. He’s his ex-best friend.

It doesn’t actually take Jamie long to notice his baby brother, though, and he gasps and beams and draws Sam in with an arm around him. He kisses him, brief, just a peck, something that might be normal for some families. Not for theirs, and it confuses Sam but he doesn’t have time to think on the matter before Jamie is drawing the attention of everyone in the room, excitedly introducing his “baby brother, Sam” to the few dozen 20-somethings, all of whom are rich or famous or attached to someone rich or famous. Sam’s too much of an introvert for this, too much Jamie’s polar opposite, and the attention makes him want to crawl out of his skin.

Thankfully, the moment passes, and everyone forgets about him in favor of going back to whatever it is they had been doing. Jamie included, who’s back to animatedly telling another story about fucking, or drugs, or a fashion show, or whatever else. Sam isn’t really listening anymore.

He ends up drinking, which no one seems to notice or mind, and not nearly to the excess Jamie tends to. But when Sam has hit ‘solidly buzzed’ and is contemplating another, he looks to his brother and realizes he hasn’t been drinking anything but water. _But he’s drunk_ , Sam thinks. His drunk never looks stupid or clumsy, never slurring or stumbling. It just makes him over-the-top, loose lipped, makes his presence inflate. He doesn’t take another drink, instead he pays closer attention to Jamie. Something isn’t right.

Soon after, Jamie’s moved on to the stage of drunk where he needs something to shag, or at least snog. But still, he hasn’t had any liquor. Sam doesn’t trust it, starts to wonder what Jamie could have taken, what he might be on instead. He intercepts, literally, stepping right in front of Jamie as he’s making his way to the woman that most caught his interest.

“Hey, we haven’t gotten to talk much,” he tries.

“Sammy! My brother, my favorite person in the world. No, the universe!” Jamie is beaming and he pulls Sam into a brief hug. When he pulls away, he takes him by the shoulders. “I love you. More than anything. More than life itself. But if this could wait, oh, thirty minutes? That would be excellent. I just have small thing to take care of. Well, not small,” he laughs, “It’s certainly sizeable enough, never had any complaints.” And he tries to move Sam out of his way.

But Sam’s not having that. He stands his ground, holds Jamie’s gaze. “Did you take something?” No point beating around the bush.

“Did I… what? No! I’m sober as a nun, I swear it. Why? Did someone say something? Was it Tristan? You know, he’s been on me all day. Entirely unfounded. I swear, everytime I’m actually _happy_ , someone accuses me of being high. There is a difference, you know.”

He’s listening, but more to the way Jamie is talking than the words he’s actually saying. His tongue darts over his lips, the pieces click into place. This isn’t something he can stop, not without making a scene. So he steps out of the way. He waits because he doesn’t need to set off Jamie’s paranoia, doesn’t need Jamie to be the one to make a scene. As soon as he and that woman have made their way to his bedroom, Sam finds Tristan, Jamie’s other best friend. His still-best friend.

Tristan is in the only quiet corner in the apartment and he looks exhausted. Sam gets it, he’s been there. “Hey,” Sam offers an apologetic smile with his greeting. “Jamie’s…” He trails off.

Tristan nods. “Yeah. It’s happening again. That’s the third girl today, and there was a bloke at some point too. Or, I think there was. He said there was, but you know how he makes things up…”

“It scares me, in a worried sort of way,” he admits. “You know he’s never wearing a rubber.”

“Yeah, me too. About the worry part, I mean. I just don’t know what to do about it. About any of this.”

They’re both quiet for a minute. 

“How long?” Sam breaks the silence.

“This is… day three? And a half? He hasn’t slept the last two nights, had a bit of a nap today and then woke up with _this_ in mind.”

“He’ll burn himself out soon, I think. At least for a day. Maybe go into that quiet obsession mode. That’s safer. Usually, anyway. Remember that time it was about snakes?”

“The time he tried to fly to Australia to prove his venom immunity?” Tristan sighs heavily and rubs his forehead.

“If we can get the party to die down, get everyone out of here, I can stay with him until he burns out. You’ve had more than your shift.”

As much as Tristan hates that Sam ever has to deal with this, he knows that he’s not going to be able to manage much longer, so he nods his agreement and gets up to go start quietly dissolving the party.

An hour and a half later, Jamie and Sam are the only ones left in his flat. The place is a disaster of a mess, but Sam decides he’ll deal with it later. For now, he just heads out to the balcony to sit with Jamie, who’s now chain smoking and nearly out of cigarettes.

“I just don’t see why everyone had to leave so early,” he complains, not even waiting for Sam to take a seat.

“I know, Jame,” he replies softly. He sits right beside his brother, only inches away on the little loveseat. “Can we talk now?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jamie’s tone is grumpy, frankly.

Sam takes a deep breath and thinks carefully about how to start this conversation. “You… know that something’s different with you, right?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m happy! Christ, is that a crime or something, that I express it a little differently than everyone else?”

 _Okay, let’s try this a different way._ “I love you. And I’m worried about you.”

That softens him and he turns to look at Sam, chewing on his lip. “I’m happy, Sam, you don’t need to worry,” his voice is much gentler this time.

“No. No, Jamie, this isn’t…” he shakes his head. “This isn’t that. This is something else. This is dangerous.”

Now Jamie rolls his eyes and looks away.

“How many people have you fucked in the last two days?” Sam is getting a little challenging.

“... Seven, not that it’s any of your business?”

“How many condoms did you use?” _Please just let something about this sink in._

“... One,” he admits reluctantly. He knows the rhetoric, all the bad things people say can happen, but they won’t. Not to him.

“And how many times did he or she have to insist on using it?”

“A few.” Jamie huffs, irritated. “What’s your bloody point?”

“Happy people don’t fuck every stranger they meet. Happy people don’t take enormous risks with their livelihood. Happy people sleep, Jamie, and they eat. When’s the last time you had a meal?”

“I haven’t been hungry,” he says, sort of with a pout. “It’s not fair of you, picking on me like this. You’re just trying to make me sound sick because you like it when you get to take care of me.”

“I do like taking care of you, Jamie, but I’m not making this up.” And he’s running out of things to say, ways to convince him.

“Really?” Jamie looks over to his brother, smiling a little. “I didn’t honestly think you did.”

“Well, yeah, I do. I love you, I want you to help you be happy and healthy.”

Jamie puts his cigarette out and looks at Sam for a long moment. “You love me?”

His brows knit a little helplessly. “More than just about anyone, your only rivals are mum and dad. And I like you, too. Idolize you sometimes, but not… not when you’re like this. I don’t like you like this.”

“I don’t… feel very loved,” he admits. “Just in general. It’s lonely, Sam, travelling so much, not having a partner to keep me grounded, working all these bizarre hours.”

Sam smiles and nods, and he feels grateful that is sounds like Jamie is coming down a little. “I’m here, you know. Anything you need, always. Maybe I could help you feel less lonely, keep you grounded, all that. I like helping.”

“You’d really do that? Be all that for me?” When Jamie smiles like that, Sam can’t help but smile, too.

“Of course, absolutely, always.” It aches, how much he misses his brother, and this glimmer of hope of being close again, even though Jamie’s not wholly rational right now, it feels good.

“I want you to be all of that, Sam. I think I have for a long time, but you’ve always been so… young. Too young.”

“I’m not that young anymore, I can handle it.” He’s been handling worse for a couple years now. Keeping Jamie together is easy, picking him up when he’s fallen apart is the hard thing.

Jamie’s smile turns warm and grateful and he accepts all of that as fact. As a promise. And in his mind, what he does next is the only logical thing to do. He leans over the few inches, takes Sam by the jaw, and kisses him deeply.

Sam freezes for half a second, brain short-circuiting, not quite believing what’s happening. But when it does catch up, he does exactly the worst thing he could possibly do in this situation. He pushes in, curls his hand in Jamie’s shirt, and opens his mouth to let his brother in. He’s been dreaming this would happen for years, and in this moment, he doesn’t have the willpower to recognize how wrong it is.

They kiss, all heat and passion, for a long moment before Jamie is leaning back, pulling Sam with him and coaxing him to straddle his lap. Sam complies with every bit of it, eager, greedy for more. And the energy that Sam is giving off, Jamie takes and inflates. It’s seconds before their shirts are gone, no time past that before Jamie’s thumbs are toying with his little brother’s nipples, and Sam his panting and gasping against his big brother’s lips. Never in his life has he been touched like this, and it’s literally a living fantasy for him that Jamie is the first.

Despite the intensity, it’s all just sensual to Jamie to that point. Just a little kissing and touching, refilling his need to be loved and wanted, and in a moment he’ll pull away and they’ll both smile and everything will go back to normal. But the second he feels Sam start to grind downwards and rut against him, stiff in his jeans and moaning with every movement, that whole plan goes out the window. Jamie’s mind turns to want and need, which is exactly how Sam has been feeling this entire time.

He shoves his hand down between them, giving baby brother something a little more steady to push himself against, and he groans his brother’s name when he realizes that his size could easily rival his own. Now he can’t tell which side of this he’s going to want to be on.

Which is fine, because Sam has it all mapped out. He’s mapped it hundreds of times, each a little different but every one of them fantastic and tonight, achievable. “L-lube, we’re going to need lube,” he manages to get out, still not truly breaking from Jamie’s lips. He knows he needs to say that now, move them when they’re both so hot for it, or risk either of them coming to their senses on the way to the bedroom. He would be heartbroken.

“Yes! Yes, yes, we do. We so do. God, Sam, I love you. I love that I get to get closer to you.” He gently pushes Sam off of his lap as he talks, and then takes him by the hand to lead him to the bedroom. Lucky for Sam, his plan was sound and neither of them thinks twice.

Jamie pushes Sam down on the bed almost as soon as he’s able, and climbs on top of him and between his legs. He dives in to keep kissing him and Sam wraps his body around Jamie’s. Finally able to push against each other properly, Jamie rolls and rocks his hips, but it’s not enough. He sits back and wastes no time stripping out of his jeans, and Sam follows the lead.

The first time Sam really feels Jamie’s cock push up against his, it’s sparks. Sparks and lightning and fire and bliss. He moans, unashamed, and pushes up into the feeling. “Jamie, Jamie,” he pants, over and over as their bodies move together. It shouldn’t be a surprise, really, that Jamie makes his body come alive like no one ever has. Jamie makes _all_ of him come alive like that. 

Having just enough presence of mind to realize Sam’s likely inexperience, Jamie backs off a little. He remembers being at Sam’s level, able to go off from just this, and it can’t end yet. That realization also makes him nervous. Maybe they aren’t both looking for this to go the same place, maybe Sam’s not ready for all of his desires. 

“What do you want, Sammy? How… how far do you want this to go?” He looks worried but deeply attentive.

The question only makes Sam blush, though. Saying it out loud? He’s not sure he can. “I, uhm, I want… well, how far do _you_ want this to go?” And he prays the deflection will work.

“Me?” Jamie smiles broadly, he simply can’t help it, and he has none of Sam’s inhibitions. “I want to do everything with you. I want to make you feel as good as humanly possible. You deserve it.”

That blush intensifies but he nods, eyes fixed on Jamie’s. With a voice so quiet he’s barely audible, Sam confesses, “I want you to be my first. My first… everything. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. Please, Jamie, it has to be you.”

Sam isn’t really Jamie’s _brother_ in this moment, not in his idyllic, somewhat delusional and excessively impulsive mind. They have sixteen years of shared history, they love each other with every fiber of their being, but the weight and meaning of brother just isn’t clicking. To his ears, that confession is the most incredible thing he’s ever heard. Nothing has ever made him feel more wanted, and he’s hopelessly hooked now. Absolutely no going back. And it’s a lucky thing Sam’s a teen, his adolescent refractory period is going to come in very handy.

Jamie makes his way down Sam’s body, stopping at his neck to kiss and lick, find and help Sam discover his favorite spot. Sam gives up heavy breaths and small noises in return as he melts beneath his brother’s attention. Moments later, he moves to give the same attention to Sam’s nipples, and then kiss a line down his abdomen. He hooks his hands in the waistband of Sam’s underwear and pulls them off of him with a bit of help. He was absolutely right, his size does rival his own, and there’s another pulse in Jamie’s brain that he really can’t decide which side of this he’d prefer to be on.

Sam’s face and chest are shaded pink, hot to the touch with his arousal, and now the embarrassing sense of vulnerability, being naked like this in front of someone else. Being looked at like that, his brother’s eyes hungry, his demeanor full of lust and confidence. He looks away and whines softly out of protest, “Jamie…”

Which pulls him out of watching, imagining, and back into action. Gently, he wraps a hand around Sam’s cock, and smiles broadly at the way he moans and arches up into it. He starts to stroke, and Sam pants in response, hips quivering as he tries to restrain his impulses and simply let Jamie have control.

Sam lets his eyes fall shut, surrendering to the pleasure and reveling in the fact that this is real, actually happening, not just a fantasy he’s tried so hard to repress. But then, suddenly, a wet heat is engulfing the head of his cock and he feels like he’s going to explode right then and there. He cries out his brother’s name, which is met only with a happy purr of a noise from Jamie and that heat sliding down, taking more of him in. Sam clutches the sheets, toes curling and breath heavy as his hips push up, greedy for more, for Jamie to take all of him in. Which is completely unreasonable given his size, but his body still craves it.

And his body gets it. Jamie’s no stranger to sucking cock, and he prides himself far too much on his sexual prowess to not have trained his body for this. He pushes down, farther and farther, slow to not overwhelm Sam. When Sam feels his brother’s nose brushing into his pubic hair, he gives a ragged sob of a noise, pleasure absolutely overwhelming him. Somehow, Jamie pulling back up feels even better. He keeps going, taking him like that over and over, always slow and dragging.

It’s agonizing in the best way possible, how Jamie refuses to ever speed up, refuses to let Sam have the quick satisfaction he’s used to as a sixteen year old on a hair trigger. Even with Jamie drawing it out, it doesn’t take long. He’s too sensitive, this situation is too much of a living fantasy. Jamie senses it coming and pulls up just enough. Sam cries out, spilling in his brother’s mouth rather than down his throat, aware in the haze of his pulsing orgasm that Jamie is _tasting_ him. Wanted to taste him, made sure he would, and _God_ it makes him empty out all the more.

Jamie waits until he’s milked out every drop he’s going to get and then pulls up with a devious grin and a lick of his lips. He’s far from done with the boy. While Sam is still a puddle of bliss, Jamie gets up and retrieves a towel and a bottle of lube from the drawer in his bedside table. He sets them on top of it, strips out of his boxers, and then climbs back on the bed to kneel by his brother’s head.

By the time Jamie is back, Sam is starting to come out of his haze, and keeping eyes on that red-hard cock is certainly helping, his arousal waking back up even in the wake of his total satisfaction. Sam reaches over to take it in hand and looks up, watching Jamie’s face to gauge how well he’s doing. He strokes, gripping firmly, revelling in the approving look he’s getting. It takes the summoning of some courage, but soon he leans in and experimentally licks up the precum beading on Jamie’s cock, his tongue brushing flat against the head of it. Jamie groans, quiet and low, and runs fingers through his little brother’s hair. “That’s it, Sammy. Don’t be shy.”

The encouragement helps soothe his nervousness and tension. Sam opens his mouth wider and sinks down. He’s entirely unpracticed, and it’s hard to get barely more than Jamie’s head in, but he works so hard on the bit that he can take. He sucks and bobs his head, and licks over the tip every time he comes up far enough. The fact that Jamie is letting his enthusiasm and pleasure show, gripping Sam’s hair harder, leaning his own head back, offering soft noises, it fuels Sam and keeps him going well beyond the point where his jaw gets sore.

Jamie was never expecting to get off like this, not now. He knows that with practice, Sam could get him there someday, but for now it just feels good. When Sam starts to slow, fatigue and discomfort showing on his face despite how intensely eager he still is, Jamie praises him as he pulls away. He re-positions himself again, grabbing up the lube and getting between Sam’s legs. Sam swallows thickly, can’t take his eyes off of that little bottle, and bites his lip nervously. He wants this _so_ bad, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t intimidating.

But his big brother is gentle with him, full of love and care even though Sam can see how hard he is, how deeply he must want to just bury himself in something. Jamie slicks up his fingers, excessively, really, but for a first time, there’s really no such thing as too much lube. He circles Sam’s hole and it ignites pleasure in Sam like nothing else ever has. He becomes sensitive to it quickly, all the focus of his body and mind attuning to that, to Jamie’s hands and how electric his touch is. Carefully, Jamie pushes a single finger inside, only up to his first knuckle, testing, watching. He works it in and out until he can feel Sam’s body start to give just the slightest, just enough to let him know that he can push deeper, make him take more, sliding down to a thicker part of his finger. He makes sure the boy can take the one, all the way to the base, without any sign of pain before he works in the second, going back to incredibly shallow pushes and gradually working him up. Going on a hunch, the way Sam seems to open his mouth with pleasure even when his brow knits with pain, Jamie doesn’t work quite as hard before pushing the third in, and this time Sam _moans_ at the stretch and burn. It feels like it takes ages, to both of them, but neither of them ever really feels impatience. This is important, and it’s good in its own right. After a while, Sam is taking three fingers easy, sort of a fourth but Jamie’s hand doesn’t quite compress enough to really get all of them in without a lot more force than he’s willing to put Sam through this first time.

It’s still going to be a stretch, a much bigger step up than any of the ones before, but Jamie decides that his brother is ready. That he’ll handle the inevitable pain and soon it will be nothing but pleasure. Sam watches him, full of awe and eagerness and hope as Jamie slicks up his cock, coating it but not nearly as much as he did his fingers. It’s still just a hunch, but he thinks Sam is going to enjoy it all the more that way. He pushes the head of his cock against Sam’s stretched hole, the once-tight ring of muscle relaxed and pliant. Slowly, he pushes inside, watching for signs that it doesn’t just hurt, but that it’s too much. They both know Sam won’t tell him to stop no matter how awful it is, so Jamie has to be the judge of what his little brother can really take.

Sam loves the way it hurts, his cock filling with blood again already, so soon after his orgasm. He pants, begs for it under his breath, keeps his eyes closed to just _feel_. Jamie pauses once he’s past the ridge of his cock and waits, lets Sam relax again and adjust to the intrusion. He pulls back out, pushing that ridge through his tight hole, again and again, sliding ever-so-slightly deeper with each push. It’s agonizing in how much control and restraint it takes, how Jamie thinks he’s going to break any second and just shove in, take what he needs, what his body is screaming for. But he pulls through, if by a thread, getting himself entirely in without being any rougher than he has to be.

Jamie holds still a moment, breathing deep, eyes fixed on how Sam looks beneath him. He’s beautiful, truly, and his vulnerability in this moment only makes him moreso. Sam’s chest, rising and falling hard as he drinks in so many new experiences and sensations, shaded pink just like his face but in contrast to the rest of his creamy, pristine skin. Even his cock is beautiful, Jamie thinks, and he darts his tongue over his lips as he takes it in hand, thumb lined up the length of it. Slowly, he starts stroking, matching the rhythm with the movement of his hips.

And there Sam is, simply falling apart, coming undone at the seams. He pants his brother’s name, at first just submitting to the expert way Jamie plays his body, but soon he needs more. Jamie’s igniting a passion inside of him, a greed and lack of inhibition he’s never known himself capable of. “Fuck me, Jamie, _fuck_ me,” he demands, though his voice is still a bit of a whine, getting stronger. “Harder, _harder_ , I need it, I need you, I need you to take what you need from me!” Sam claws softly at Jamie’s arms, all he can reach given their positions, and rocks his hips. 

It’s intoxicating, even beyond the mess of chemicals that was already going on in his brain. Watching Sam come alive like this, assertive and demanding, such a shift from his quiet and passive nature. It’s like, he thinks, that in some way it isn’t just their bodies joining, but also their hearts and their souls. Like Sam is taking him in and becoming forever changed by his devotion. Jamie’s brows knit helplessly, he feels himself taking in a bit of Sam, as well. A need to give his brother anything he could ever want, to follow rather than lead. He leans down, planting his forearm above Sam’s head and taking golden locks in his hand as he begins to drive in faster, harsher, making his brother’s body push forward with every thrust. He can’t look away from Sam’s beauty, from his pleasure.

It’s still not enough, though. Sam needs more, needs to consume Jamie, his love, the object of every ounce of affection and lust he’s ever felt. He’s had countless fantasies, and he knows what he wants, what he _has_ to get before this dream is over. He lifts a hand and pulls Jamie’s face to his, kissing him with hunger. Lips and tongue and teeth meeting, breath being stolen while satisfaction is being received. He moves his other hand down to take Jamie’s off of him, and then breaks his lips only enough to whisper, “ _Pin me_.”

Jamie’s eyes widen slightly, surprised yet again by Sam’s forwardness. The request isn’t strange, not by any stretch, but coming from _Sam_? He never would have expected. Jamie can do nothing but comply, though, because in this moment his very soul is in his brother’s hands. He re-positions himself again and gets both of Sam’s wrists in hand to pin them above his head. Harder and harder, he’s slamming into his baby brother now, and Sam is falling apart again, but it’s so much sweeter.

“Yes, Jamie, that’s it. Hurt me. God, I love it. Fuck me, hurt me, use me,” he says breathlessly as his arousal is becoming unbearable, reaching a fever pitch, and he feels like he can’t even think properly anymore. It’s not a feeling Sam has ever come anywhere near.

“I love you, Sam,” he returns just as breathlessly. It’s running through his mind on repeat as heat pools in his gut and his hips take on a mind of their own, driving down relentlessly, brutally fucking Sam into the mattress.

And that’s it. That’s all he can take. That last piece, maybe the most important of any fantasy he’s ever had, clicking into place. Jamie’s words push him over the edge and he cries out so loud, so rough and strangled that his voice will be hoarse. His hips jolt upward and he spills powerfully against Jamie’s stomach. The abuse on his prostate makes him give up more than he ever has, emptying him out completely and making his entire body feel heavy and floating at the same time, his head lost and thoughtless and quiet for the first time in his life.

Jamie whimpers when Sam’s body clenches around him, and seeing his brother explode like that relieves him of his single-minded need to please him. A few more thrusts, focus on Sam’s face, his bliss, the knowledge that he gave him all of that, he gave him the world, and Jamie’s falling over the edge of oblivion right alongside his baby brother.

It could be seconds or hours before Jamie pulls out. Neither of them has any concept of time anymore, any concept of anything that isn’t each other, but the moment Jamie collapses on the bed beside Sam, Sam is curled against him. Jamie’s only barely got the presence of mind to pull the blankets over them both, and soon they’re both lost to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were a vision in the morning when the light came through  
> I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you

Sam wakes first, unsurprising given the level of sleep deprivation Jamie needs to recover from. He stays in bed, though, simply watching Jamie and reflecting on what they had done. He’s beautiful and peaceful, and in this moment Sam thinks he could spend the rest of his life with Jamie. Maybe they’d have to move far away where no one would know their faces, and maybe Jamie would have to give up his career, but it would be worth it. So worth it.

Eventually, Jamie stirs and opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is Sam. Memories of the night before come trickling in and they make him smile, love filling his eyes. “Good morning, Sammy,” he speaks gently.

“Good morning,” Sam answers, mirroring Jamie’s smile. “Sleep well?”

Jamie nods and encourages Sam to roll over. When his brother complies he pulls himself close, his chest to Sam’s back, arm wrapped tightly around him and nose nestled into the back of his neck.

It feels so good, stupid good, in a way entirely different from the night before but no less powerful. Sam’s body relaxes entirely and he simply breathes and feels for a long moment.

But Jamie’s mind is already starting to run quick again, and he finds himself needing to ask, “Do you regret last night? Did I do something wrong?” Guilt is tugging at him, his conscience is kicking in. That is not a thing brothers do. That is not a thing 22 year olds do with 16 year olds. He’s gripping Sam a little tighter, though he’s not aware of it.

“What?” Sam sounds surprised and he furrows his brow. “No. No, absolutely not. Jamie, I wanted that. I wanted it so bad, you have no idea. I’ve never felt better, not in my entire life. Then and now. I promise you. Every fiber of my being wanted that, still wants it. I’ve never felt so connected to someone.”

He chews on his lip a moment, thinking. “You say that now when the high is still fresh. But later…”

“But later, nothing. God, Jamie, do you have any clue? Of course you don’t, how could you.” With a deep breath and a sigh, Sam admits, “The first time I thought about that, all of that, exactly how it went, the fact that it was with you included, I was twelve. It was also the first time I got myself off. I would have sold my soul to guarantee last night happened, honestly.”

Jamie freezes. He has no idea what to do with that information. Sam didn’t rush into it, he was sure it was something he wanted, and that’s good. But fuck, fantasizing about him? For that long? That can’t possibly be healthy and it worries him.

“You’re the only thought that’s _ever_ gotten me off, Jame,” Sam continues to admit.

“Ever?” His voice is more hopeful than it should be. It inflates his ego, and that in turn pushes away his conscience.

“Ever. I think about you every time, nothing else works. And… and I do it kind of a lot,” he adds with a small laugh.

Fuck, that’s good. That’s amazing. Jamie is smiling again and he pushes kisses to the back of Sam’s neck, affection overflowing and needing an outlet. “So, you don’t regret it, and you might want to do it again?”

“Might? I absolutely want to do it again. And again and again. Starting right now, even.”

Jamie grins devilishly and his hand slinks down to find Sam’s cock, already fairly hard. “Starting right now, huh?”

“Fuck me, Jamie,” he echoes his words from last night, this time in a whisper. And he gets exactly what he asked for.

\--------------------------------------

Jamie’s phase lasted several more days, and at no point did Sam decide to be the rational one and stop what was so clearly wrong. He kept Jamie’s ego well enough fed and maybe-unintentionally kept stoking the hypersexuality that was inherent to his mental state often enough to make sure Jamie never questioned it again, either. It was essentially all they did during those days, learning and playing with Sam became Jamie’s obsession, and every moment of it was every one of Sam’s wishes fulfilled.


End file.
